


Watching a Movie

by GealachGirl



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: 5+1 Things, Generation Kill Bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 07:36:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15859155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GealachGirl/pseuds/GealachGirl
Summary: The five times Brad Colbert didn't watch a movie, and the one time Ray didn't either.





	Watching a Movie

1.

It felt like the squealing and whining lasted for hours, and Brad was getting closer to cursing Poke with every second of it; but then Ray finally found the movie, put it in the DVD player and made the girls happy.

By the time the first Disney logo cleared the screen, they were silent and captivated. They didn’t mind that the popcorn Brad popped had gone cold, and with them hypnotized Ray finally settled on the couch with Brad.

“I call that a babysitting win,” Ray said, pointing at the girls.

“If only you hadn’t lost the movie.”

“My first time in this house and you expect me to know my way around?” Ray said, putting a hand to his chest. “How dare you Bradley.”

“Shhhhhhh.” Both girls turned around to glare at them. “Can you keep it down? We’re trying to watch a movie.”

“Good lord they sound like a more innocent Poke,” Ray whispered, though he did turn toward the screen and cross his arms as the movie rolled through its exposition.

Poke and Gina had recruited both of them to watch the girls because Poke reasoned that, together, Brad and Ray were the perfect babysitter: responsible and controlled matched with fun and human.

He was right so far, too. Ray hadn’t spent as much time with the girls, though he’d met them before, and they’d loved him instantly. He was willing to join any game they wanted him in and he played along perfectly for their ages. Ray had also changed his sense of humor to one that the girls could grasp and found hilarious.

Brad made dinner and made sure everything was cleaned up, and he took care that the girls got their showers and into their pajamas before the movie. And he was able to play off of Ray, who directed wit and jokes to Brad for him to join. It seemed to surprise the girls that their Uncle Brad could be funny, too.

He didn’t realize how far he’d gotten into his head until his cheek was stinging. Brad glared at Ray, who smiled innocently and leaned away, lowering his hand.

“Movie’s over,” he said, looking at Brad like he’d been waiting for something. There was a bit of a crease between his eyebrows as if there was a question he wanted to ask.

Brad looked at the TV, which was showing the movie menu again, and the girls who were arguing in the way they did when they were ready for bed. He shook his head at Ray and planted his hands on the couch cushions to push himself to his feet. Time to handle it.

“Alright girls, first one to get in bed, after brushing her teeth, gets an extra story from Ray,” he told them. Both scrambled to their feet and left the room faster than he’d ever seen them.

Ray stood up and shook his head at Brad. “I see how it is. Now you have me around again, you’re going to use my charm and social skills to manipulate people,” he said, following the path the girls had made. “You’re a devious bastard,” he said, his voice faint down the hallway.

“You’re babysitting!” Brad reminded him.

Then he looked at the TV again. He really didn’t remember what the movie had been about.

2.

Brad observed the crowd with more than a little distaste. The college kids were loud, by design, and even if they weren’t shouting at each other to talk, each one gave off the impression of “loud,” no matter what they were doing.

“Dude, tone it down. You’re going to scare everyone,” Ray said, elbowing Brad in the side and maneuvering them toward an empty space.

Before Brad could say it, Ray added, “I know that’s what you’re going for.”

Ray found a spot and directed Brad to sit. He was strangely on edge, and Brad frowned at the side of his face, while Ray scanned the crowd of students for something.

The semester had started a week ago, and this was some kind of welcome/orientation thing designed to make everyone feel at home. Brad was of the opinion that Ray didn’t need to bother with bullshit like this, especially when he didn’t live on campus, but Ray had insisted that it might be fun.

The welcome event was a movie, projected on the side of one of the newer buildings that was made out of smooth stone. Concessions ringed the open square, and the wide lawn was packed with students. And Brad.

“So what am I doing here, Person?” he asked again, pulling Ray’s attention back.

He said he liked his classes so far, and he was looking forward to the semester, so Brad didn’t understand what the nervous energy was about.

“Well no one seems to believe I was a cold-blooded killer in the deserts of our enemy and I thought bringing you would give me some cred,” he said.  

Brad heard a hint of truth in that, which was interesting, but Ray didn’t give a shit what people thought. If he did, he’d be much less of a human tragedy.

“I’m not bragging about Iraq so you can get respect from 18-year-olds,” Brad warned.   

“Shut up, the movie’s starting,” Ray said, glaring and sticking his hand into their popcorn to pull out a fistful.

But Brad didn’t care. He was more focused on Ray.

Ray had made radios and NVGs work with nothing but willpower. He and Ray had spent their own money, and so much of their time to make their Humvee more than a tin can. Ray was an expert at radio relays and driving a vehicle he didn’t have a license or training for. He knew how to keep open comms and navigate while under fire, in a foreign city. He’d been through boot camp, Recon training and SERE.

But he was nervous about starting college.

It took Brad a long time to figure out what to say and convince himself that was the solution. The movie was over when he’d found it and everyone around them was picking up towels and blankets. The noise levels rose again and people began walking back toward the residence halls.

The two of them were in the parking lot when Brad said, “You don’t have to prove anything to any of them. You know that, right?”

Ray turned to look up at him, and Brad watched all of the directions his brain went with that. Ray even went down the same line of thought that had brought Brad to that conclusion.

To his surprise, Ray didn’t brush him off or deny that was what he’d been worried about.

“Shucks homes, you’re gonna make me blush,” he replied after a few beats of silence, but Brad caught the soft smile on his face as he got into the passenger seat.

“I thought the movie was kind of boring, and the plot definitely got lost halfway through. How about you?” Ray asked after a few beats of silence.

It took Brad a moment to realize he had no idea what he was talking about.

3.

“Everyone quiet!”

They did. Mostly out of surprise. And when Brad noticed what was going on, he settled in to observe.

“Yo, so last time this didn’t go great because our boy Lilley got carried away. But he’s back. He’s got a new set-up. And we’re gonna try this out again. Get it?”

Stafford’s voice was strangely subdued while it danced on the edge of outrageous and Brad’s interest really was piqued.

The other Marines around the yard paid attention, too, and Brad heard some good-natured jokes run through the crowd.

Lilley looked mildly embarrassed as he slipped his CD into the projector. Brad braced himself. The images of Iraq weren’t pretty. Not the ones he saw in news articles, or those on TV, or what was in his head.

As the projector lit up and that painfully familiar desert stretched over the screen, he scanned other faces for an idea of how they felt about it.

It was Rudy’s idea for everyone to keep in touch and to get together occasionally in he and his wife’s backyard for grilling, yard games and catching up. Most of the platoon had made it to this one and there was news of weddings, children and college.

Brad stayed on the outskirts of those conversations. As one of the only people still in the military after Iraq he wasn’t sure he had much to add among everyone’s stories about moving forward in life. Though he didn’t normally think of it like that until everyone else was around.

But this video brought them all back to the same place.

People laughed at the opening shot of Rudy, running around the camp in a face mask, followed by other ridiculous Rudy things.

And this time, everyone was transfixed by the video. Poke looked proud of the clips where he was ranting, Qtip and Christeson were laughing at any moment that showed them and the louder parts of the group cheered whenever they recognized a scene where they’d come out alive by the skin of their teeth or sheer luck.

But the personal moments were the most common, and they got the biggest reaction. Brad could tell because he watched their faces, when the hush fell over the whole group, and small smiles unfolded.

And when he sought a specific one, he saw big brown eyes looking back at him.

Brad caught a momentary glance of an expression—attentive, eyebrows drawn a little together like Ray was thinking—before Ray lifted his eyebrows and nodded toward the screen.

He glanced at it, saw Reporter hesitantly talking to Trombley, and smiled back at Ray.

The movie played on, but Brad and Ray spent the rest of its runtime rolling their eyes at their friends and laughing together from two different sides of the yard. And Brad considered that maybe he wasn’t the same person he’d always been, that he’d changed too.

4.

“Fuck man, I don’t know why we thought Tess would be okay in there,” Poke said, holding his daughter while she calmed down.

The movie wasn’t scary, but Brad had been disturbed by some of the animation so he could only imagine how a three-year-old interpreted it.

“I don’t know why you’re swearing in front of your daughter,” Brad replied. Poke flipped him off.

The mall bustled around them and they people-watched until Tess stopped crying. Then they started walking, deciding that Gina and Isabelle could finish the movie without them.

“Anything new and exciting going on?” Poke asked, letting Tess run ahead of them, but not too far. Brad narrowed his eyes and proceeded with caution.

“What are you expecting me to say?” he asked eventually, and Poke rolled his eyes.

“Come on dawg. What’s the only thing that’s new in your life?” Poke leveled a serious look at him. “Person’s back in town, he’s living nearby, and you can’t seem to stop looking at him or talking to him whenever you’re in public.”

Brad raised an eyebrow. Ray was his friend, probably his best friend as much as he ever did those anymore. “And what are you suggesting? I’m doing the same thing with you right now.”

Poke looked at him for a long second before he shook his head. “Dude, I can’t do anything with you when you’re being a dumbass on purpose.” He looked over to check on his daughter, who was currently climbing one of the benches. Then he leaned close to Brad.

“Just don’t lie to yourself about it when you figure it out, okay?” And though Poke never really stopped being irritated, there was real concern and care in his eyes. “I know you’ve had a rough time of it, but that’s not the only way it can play out.”

And that was bold of him.

Brad blinked back. “Poke, I advise you to either spit it out or stop talking entirely.”

Poke just smiled at him. “You’d like that huh, dawg, but that shit don’t work out here.” Then he darted over to grab Tess before she tumbled over the side of the bench.

5.

“Okay but why are you telling me instead of your landlord?” Brad asked.

“One, I’m going to tell my landlord. Right after this. Second, it’s because it’s egregious and I had to tell you first to give you real-time evidence of how shitty they are,” Ray answered. He sounded on the verge of a rant and Brad had to find a way to talk him down.

On the other side of the door, his trainees were watching a video Brad had seen so many hundreds of times, so he supposed he didn’t have to get rid of Ray just yet.

He rolled his eyes. “When is your lease up?”

“A month and three weeks,” he said instantly. “Which reminds me, I need a place to crash for winter break. If you know of anything that might pop up…”

“You aren’t going home?”

Ray scoffed. “Fuck no, dude. Maybe for a bit to see my mom, but why would I want to spend a month in Missouri? I have everything I need right here in Cali.”  

Brad rolled his eyes, but leaned against the wall.

“You know, one day I’ll pry my mom out of that shithole town, and then I’ll be golden.”

Ray continued rambling about his hometown, why it was such a shithole, but how he loved it, really, even though he couldn’t stand being there anymore. But Brad was only half paying attention.

He glanced into the classroom and saw the part where a former Marine was interviewed about his experience with the members of his team and platoon in Iraq. It was meant to show the kids in boot camp that there was more to look forward to in the Corps than just shooting people.

This was a general training video, so the kid in the video wasn’t Recon, but Brad had heard him talk enough to know that what he was saying was much like his experience of Iraq and his time in the Marines in general. Everyone leaned on each other when things were rough, and celebrated together when they were good, and the kid had really started to love all the people he was with.

“It’s like its own family,” Brad knew he said. “I’m closer to these guys than anyone else in my life.”

Which made him think about his own time in the Corps and what his life was like now. He saw Poke regularly, and was a godfather to one of his daughters. He got cards from Walt for Hanukah and his birthday. Kocher called him sometimes. Nate stayed in touch.

But Brad had stepped out of his class when Ray had called, and now he was listening to him ramble on about his hometown.  

He thought about his recent conversation with Poke and dug through the subtext, and he realized what Poke was talking about. Jesus Christ.

But it wasn’t like that necessarily. Ray had been his RTO, his driver, and was one of the best friends Brad had ever had. He moved to California for college and lived in an apartment a mile and a half away from Brad’s townhouse, so of course they saw each other a lot.

“So anyway, can I crash with you?”

Of course, and Brad was so fucked.

+1.

They were supposed to go out. Just not quite like this.

It was the middle of the day so the museum wasn’t very busy yet and they got in right away. After paying for his fee, Brad watched Ray make off with a map.

They’d arranged it last week. With the semester heating up and careening to its end and training getting more intense, they hadn’t seen each other as often, and it was getting to be an uncomfortably long time.

But when he’d shown up at Brad’s house, Ray looked at him and changed the plans.

“Alright we’re taking this bitch top to bottom. How does that sound?” Ray asked, holding the museum map in front of his face. Brad shrugged and Ray smiled up at him. “Don’t worry homes, your pal Ray will take good care of you.”

Brad made a face and flipped him off, which made him grin and head to the elevators. Brad followed.

It had been a bad day. Lucky for him, Ray was the person who could read Brad with one long look.

So they were at the Nat. He’d only glared when Ray suggested the Marine history museum, and the San Diego Natural History Museum had enough to interest both of them. But the beautiful thing was that all Brad had to do was follow Ray through rooms and floors, read plaques and learn things.

He was tired of being responsible. He needed a break, mentally, and Marines like him didn’t go on vacation.

This didn’t happen very often. Brad liked being in charge. But sometimes it was taxing, and that usually meant staying at home and not making choices.

Ray was different though. He was the only person Brad could imagine giving his decisions to. So, they were at the natural history museum.

He wondered if this was part of that thing Poke had been talking about. If maybe there was a there there.

“Oh hell yeah, homes, there’s a fucking skull exhibit,” Ray said, grabbing Brad’s shoulder and making an honest attempt to push him in that direction.  Brad only resisted long enough to make a point, and then he went with Ray into the exhibit.

He wondered, when thinking about how Ray had reversed course so quickly that morning, if maybe he wasn’t the only one. It was unlikely, but it was something to think about.

There were a lot of skulls. A sign on the wall explained the point was to showcase the weird specimens the museum had in its collection. Brad stopped beside a giraffe skull and Ray was a few feet away, looking at snakes’.

“Look, Ray, it’s you,” Brad said when his eyes landed on a prairie dog skull. Ray turned around and glared.

“Well that’s you,” he said, pointing to a porcupine skull. And Brad kind of liked that idea, which Ray must have realized. “So’s that.” He gestured to the giraffe.

In response, Brad just pointed to an otter skull.

Ray looked outraged in an overdramatic way, but he was also speechless, and Brad smirked because he didn’t need to say anything else. Instead, he kept walking. He was feeling better now.

“You know I thought I was done with you being a dick,” he ranted as he followed Brad. “It must have been that bullshit about distance and hearts growing fonder. I forgot that’s the quality of your personality.”

“Get used to it, Person. It only gets worse from here.”

“Oh, I’m aware. The memories just keep flooding back,” he replied.   

Ray drew level with him when he saw Brad stopped in front of the little theater where the museum was showing a program about climate change. The sign told him that it was in the middle of its showing. Ray saw the same thing, but ignored it.

“We’ll just watch it and then stick around for the beginning,” he said when he saw Brad’s face. Brad was going to point out that documentaries were structured a specific way for a reason, but Ray had already gone into the theater.

He took a moment before he joined Ray in the back, and it all felt natural; this dynamic, the ribbing, settling in next to each other. He could feel Ray looking at him and he saw him shake his head with a small smile on his face.

The theater was empty but for them, so Brad didn’t bother lowering his voice when he said. “See, I don’t even know what’s going on now.”

But he wasn’t really paying attention anyway, instead stuck on thinking over that thing Poke had said.

Then Ray was looking at him.

“You’re overthinking something, though,” he said, and Brad could tell from the tone of his voice that his eyes were narrowed. “You know, in my humble opinion, you need to chill the fuck out.”

Brad turned to face him and he laid the skepticism on thick when he said, “Oh really?”

Ray _tsked_ under his breath.

And then he put a hand on Brad’s cheek, moved forward, and kissed him.

For one second, a voice in his head told Brad this was a bad idea, but it was drowned out by a louder voice telling him it was right.

It was only a soft kiss, like testing ice before putting weight on it, on both sides. But of course Brad wanted this.

They’d known each other for so long and fit around each other so well. In a lot of ways, Ray just felt like an extension of himself. It was only natural for this to be the next step.

And when Ray said something that sounded like what Brad was thinking or gave him one of those knowing looks like they were the only two inside a joke, Brad felt a little more like he belonged to something.

When they pulled away from each other, sweeping, dramatic music was playing through the theater, and Brad glanced over to see the credits flying on the screen. Beside him, Ray was laughing.

He raised an eyebrow and turned his attention back to him.

“Do you have a comment?” he asked. Ray just laughed harder and waved a hand to clear the air.

“How the fuck?” Ray breathed. “How the fuck is everything with you like this?” Brad couldn’t raise his eyebrow any higher, so he just kept looking at Ray, who rolled his eyes.

“Relax,” he said. “Anything other than roundabout and neurotic would be boring. Besides, how else would I get a soundtrack after achieving my dreams?”

Then he kissed him again, a little harder this time, and Brad believed him.

 “Do you still want to watch the documentary?” Brad asked a few seconds later, but he knew what Ray would say, and was already standing up.

Ray grinned, bright and beautiful.

“Fuck no.”

**Author's Note:**

> I saw the Nat had a skull exhibit which meant I had to include it. And then I added symbolism to justify it.


End file.
